Between Dreams and After Lives
by WhatBoredomWills
Summary: Meet Momoko Hotaru. Not the most appropriate name to name someone, but certainly it works memorably at first introduction. No memory of her past, no memory of herself, no memory of who she was or is, no memory to go about knowing; but that doesn't mean you can't go around making some, right? [Longer summary inside] OC insert X read-to-know, multiverse of Bleach/DN/Liar Game, etc
1. Prologue

Between Dreams and After Lives  
Prologue

_I don't know who I am. _

_Or rather, I can't seem to be able to recall who I was. _

_My saviours have both named me Momoko Hotaru, but the old man kept on calling me 'Hachi'. When I stared blankly at him, Sister Maya provided the explanation. _

"_It's a nickname and it means eight," she said almost laughing, but I can see that she was an expert at stifling her laugh. "Or the eight."_

"_Why is that?" I asked, "Is there some sort of significance to it?"_

_Sister Maya nodded. "I suppose I should tell you," the way she ground her teeth as she spoke English cleared her accent away, "You were the eighth one."_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Meet Momoko Hotaru.

That's "_peach child, firefly"_ by literal translation.

Not the most appropriate name to name someone, but certainly it works memorably at first introduction—I reckon! No memory of her past, no memory of herself, no memory of who she was or is, no memory to go about knowing; but that doesn't mean you can't go around making some, right?

Wrong!

So what happens when you mix in an old, retired monk, a young part-time Shinto priestess (or a miko, if you prefer that term) and a very confused, lost amnesic? AND what do you get if you plop them into the combined universes of Bleach, Death Note, Liar Game and Ghost Hunt (just to mention a few—yes, I aim this to be a one of a kind crossover, haha)?

You _should _get intrigue, mystery, horror, suspense, psychological challenges and a whole load of unstabilized hormone levels—but _that _is a good thing, right?

I sure hope so...

Well, enjoy the misery of forming utterly new memories and finding out old, wrecked ones in the closet of our main protagonist: Momoko Hotaru.

* * *

Date: 19/9/2013

Appearances by far: L (in Chapter Two). Kurosagi Ichigo (in Chapter Three). Urahara Kisuke, Kurosagi Isshin, Tessai (in Chapter Four).


	2. 1 Leaving The Country Side

**Author's Note:  
**_I do not own anything to the great universes of Bleach, Death Note, Liar Game, Ghost Hunt, Naruto, etc. I only own my original characters, which does not originate from the aforementioned universes._

_Anyways, some guidelines to the formats in this story:_

_"What?" _- Japanese language, untranslated unless stated

**_"What?"_ **- Other beings/Supernatural creatures thoughts AND speech

_that _- refers to emphasis or a term that equals with 'that' just without the quotes

* * *

Between Dreams and After Lives

1

I'm sitting comfortably at the edge of the wooden passage by the _zen_ garden; breathing in the outer air is more calming than ever, as the old man—Mr Komatsu—has just told me that he has to move out of the house. Sister Maya, or Maya-nee-chan as she insisted, has told me that he has been staying here only to wait for the refurbishment to finish back at his shophouse in Tokyo. The move should take us less than one week, but what worries me is the fact that I have to actually move with them there. As their new addition, I feel somewhat strange and awkward to follow the man and woman who saved me everywhere and anywhere that they go—even if they insisted. But with the Komatsus, it is actually impossible to resist them.

"Hachi!"

It's been two weeks and I've only gotten used to being called that, despite my lack of memory (and of my real name). "Yes," I reply, shouting only half as loud—summer is actually hot in Japan. The weather leaves you breathless and your throat dry if you aren't careful. "What is it?"

Pounding footsteps soon follow and a familiar looking redhead woman appears before me; Sister Maya has very deep brown eyes—perhaps not as deep as a black hole, but enough to intensify the piercing red strands over her eyes. Her hair is long, spreading down her waist, and is tied into a ponytail on the back of her head. She sighs before landing a seat next to me, her long red hair swaying as she plops, and says nothing for a moment that lasts a cricket's song. We keep our eyes on the garden that spread out from below our dangling feet as we sit there on the jetty-like wooden feature of the traditional Japanese house; our eyes just gazing towards the stonewall that covered the house's surrounding.

"The shophouse in Tokyo is much smaller than this," she speaks up after a while. I gulp hearing this; this could mean that I have to share rooms with them and that push me at the uncomfortable edge of Mount Everest as the stranger in this family. "But it has a lovely garden and a pond! I guess, you wouldn't really like it—it's right above the shop that I was talking to you about!" She adds.

I remember what she said about the shop; it was inherited from Mr Komatsu's ancestry that actually last a whole hundred years. It's a traditional tea shop with a geisha theme (Sister Maya—I mean, Maya-nee-chan (although nee-chan apparently means _sister_ in Japanese)— keeps telling me that geishas actually works there in the past, but no more). That's where I'll be working as a waitress. But Maya-nee-chan warns me that I have to learn the ways of geisha (perhaps _excluding_ the intimate host part of the job) and that I have to learn the traditional way of making Japanese tea. For the past two weeks, I've only learnt little. Maybe this is because I still haven't grasp the whole situation.

"That's okay," I mumble as I fidget, "I'm sure I can get use to it."

Maya-nee-chan looks back at me with wide eyes; "I don't want to force you, Hachi," she pauses to sigh briefly and looks away—back into the view of the garden, "If you want, I could give you some money and you could rent out an apartment nearby or something. We could definitely work something out!"

"I can't accept your money!" I gasp; she looks back at me with the same eyes—startled, perhaps at the sudden pitch of my voice. Nice going, Hachi! "Y-you've saved my life in the river and I think I'd have a lot to do to p-pay that back. And i-if I have to stay with you to repay my debts, I will go wherever it is that you t-two are going—regardless if I'm uncomfortable or not."

Maya-nee-chan says nothing; I don't know whether to take that as a yes. We stay that way for the remainder of fifteen minutes before being called back into the house by her fifteen year old cousin Kouta. Mr Komatsu has just returned from the town; he's said that he has arranged our transportation for tomorrow and that we'll be going by land instead of by air. So that means the journey should take about five or six hours. When he tells us to pack up our bags and sleep in early, Maya nods and answers for me (in Japanese). Mr Komatsu turns towards me with a smile and I respond with a shy nod—expecting Maya to explain to me later.

Mr Komatsu is a foot shorter than me—thanks to his hunched back—and looks as pleasant as any wise old man; as the experienced grandfather of the family, he looks and is the role. He has no hair on his head and so it glistens to the change of lighting very easily—it makes me laugh sometimes. On the other hand, his dark corneas with wrinkles decorating around his eyes and forehead makes him looks dreary but happy. He is about eighty-five years old and would've died with his wife if he could; but Maya-nee-chan believes that part of him died with her. He still seems like he tries to be happy without her.

XxXxXxX

After his brief meeting and some translation from her, Maya-nee-chan and I both go back to our respective rooms and I quickly tuck myself in; the clothes that I wear are mostly hers so I don't have anything of mine to pack at all. Staying under my blanket feels as safe as the summer winds are wilder at night, dragging somewhat cold front winds that came down from the North. I think I was never a Japan-born foreigner of some sort, because I would've gotten used to it; my body seems to recall living in a more hotter, perhaps slightly tropical and humid place.

Since I had been staying here, I have nothing but strange dreams that either scares nor pleases me. As I lie on my futon bed and slowly dazing off, I quickly fall asleep and those dreams... come right at me again.

It starts off like all my previous dreams; it follows the reality of when Maya-nee-chan and old Mr Komatsu had greeted me when I woke up from my being unconscious for about a week.

They have told me the story that I was found nearly downed in a nearby river, in an area that was secluded and luckily, they were around to save me. They ask me for my name, to which I reply with a negative—I can't seem to remember my name. As they find it difficult to believe that I survived drowning in what seemed to be a sacred river (as Maya-nee-chan explained), they name me after the legend of Momotaro; he was supposedly a boy who came out of a stranded peach that washed off by the river and an old couple found the boy, taking him in. For some reason, I remind them of that boy and so they named me _Momoko_, which meant _peach-child_. They tell me that they have reported me as a missing child in Japan (or adult, seeing as how they believe me to be around twenty), but no one has yet to come up and claim me. That's why they decide to take me in as one of their own.

While I am fine with this arrangement and too confused to want anything more than having a drink (the heat has something to do with it), I hear old man Mr Komatsu calling me a different name. He goes on looking at me expectantly, blurting out _Hachi_ as he did; when I ask Maya-nee-chan about it—

"It's a nickname and it means eight," she says the same things as before, half-stifling her laugh. "Or the eighth."

"Why is that?" I ask as I did before, "Is there some sort of significance to that?"

She nods as I expected. "I suppose I should tell you. You were the eighth one."

Most of the dreams end here and I'm always beguiled at her answer—what did she mean by that? Why was I called the eighth one? Were there others before me?

But for some peculiarly frightening reason, this dream doesn't stop here; Maya-nee-chan continues to say, "Because there were others before—seven of them—and none of them were related to one another."

"Really?" I ask rather happily; if there was another person before me, then maybe they can tell me where we came from or if we had been somewhere else before we were washed up at the riverbank. I mean, if we all ended up the same place, what are the chances of us coming from the same place as well? "Where are they? You must let me see them!"

Maya's expression changes drastically; shadows swallow the light from her eyes, leaving only a strange dark glint that stares right through me. Her lips curl at the ends, crackling her tongue into that of a sinister laughter—a laughter that doesn't fit her face nor her character. It's like she evolved into something that was completely polar opposite to who she really was.

"We can't allow that."

I shudder at the sound of that and at the sudden stop of her laugh; I'm too consumed by the fact that she said she _can't allow_ it. I feel as if I must've done something incredibly wrong—just as I try to control my shuddering, I feel a chill coming over my body as Maya turns to face me.

"They're all dead now... and you're the only one left!"

For a brief glimpse, I see her face changes again; her being is now swallowed whole by a bone-white, pure gloss material that covers all over her once human body. There's some kind of dark lines that tattooed itself across specific portions of her body, denoting where the arms meet the elbows—much like a sleeved shirt or skirt or pants; her hair transforms into a short and bright neon-like pink with stale white horns drilling its way out of her skull. Her once warm eyes glisten through the narrow and sharp hole of what now looked like a patterned mask—they are amber in colour; in fact, the face is a mask with protruding and bear-like teeth.

Those teeth are so sharp, they just out of the gum of the mask upwards and downwards—I stop to think when I realize that I could die from being bitten and once would be enough to leave me bleeding to death. She suddenly gives out another strange laugh, muttering something in Japanese that I couldn't understand and—

That wake me up.

Thank god I live through that!

I feel a strange pain in my chest—it feels like something is pulled and tugged straight out of my rib cage, tensing the muscles and fleshes in between. I wriggle my way out of the flat bed and sit up; my breathing is laboured, my lungs heaving desperately for air and my body drenched in cold, unnatural sweats. There's no way I could sleep—not while I still remember how those amber eyes glowed at me.

After some time, I lay back on the bed and simply stare at the ceiling. I try to think back about who I was, but my mind is at a complete blank.

I have not a single idea of who I am.

Yet for some reason, I feel happy that I've forgotten.

XxXxXxX

"You didn't sleep at all?" Maya seems worried as she turns to me.

"But I'm fine. Really!"

"You already have bags under your eyes," she notes as she comes close to my face—I back away immediately. She reacts with another eyebrow raised, but I'm rather afraid to think she's offended by that.

"Well," she sigh as she backs away herself, "Why didn't you just tell me? I would've prepared a home remedy that might've helped."

"But you might end up not sleeping as well."

Just as she's about to speak, Kouta comes around to tell her that Mr Komatsu summons her; he glances at me before looking away with a scoff.

Maya translates to me anything that people speak, so that I know everything that's been going on here. She does most of the things for me and yet, after that dream, I can't seem to call her _sister _anymore...

Anyway, this house belongs to Mr Komatsu's daughter; she's not around now, but her only son—Kouta—manages the house in her stead. I heard something about her husband being _gone_, but I'm not sure what Maya meant when she said that.

Kouta has spiky dark hair, swept to raise above his head, making him look nearly like a duck; his narrow eyes—always followed by furrowed eyebrows—heightens the deep olive skin that he has. He's much smaller than us, which is probably why he's _almost always_ upset. He's also got something against me—I just know it by my gut. Maya never tells me what exactly, but there's a hatred in the way he stares at me, especially when he has to speak English with me. Little did I know, as I aimlessly walk between one hallway and the other carrying items from Maya's room, I bump into Kouta.

"_Hora_ (Hey)," I speak in Japanese, or at least attempt to. He startles to hear my attempt before shrugging it off.

"_Our language is not for your tongue."_

I have no idea what he just said—can I assume it's anything nice?

"You must be glad," I break the ice awkwardly as I struggle to keep the box in my hand stable, "I won't be staying here anymore."

"_Yeah, good riddance!"_

That doesn't sound too bad. I wonder just—

"_Kouta! What are you doing?"_ Maya appears out of no where; she looks horrified as she stares at him, as if he had killed the world and now brags about it. _"Apologize to her—NOW!"_

"_Like hell I'm going to apologize! You can screw her and eat her bullshit, but I'm not—"_

Maya's palm flies right across the space between them and hit him square on the cheek; a red mark slowly appeared where the pain radiates and Kouta raises his hand to his cheek, feeling it, and making sure he still had one. I'm not even sure if apologizing or interfering them in any way would be the solution to this little family drama. I cower behind the box in my hand, shielding my face behind it as the drama unfolds.

"_I don't know what you and grandpa see in her!"_ Kouta yells at the top of his lungs.

"_You know what she is,"_ Maya sternly replies, _"It is our duty to help those in need of our help—regardless who they are or what they are or where they come from. You have to understand this. That's what it takes to be one of us..."_

"_Well, I don't want to be one of you!"_

Kouta storms out of the room; his shoulder bumps against mine as he exits through the door behind me. I must've been gaping at what was happening before me, because Maya looks back at me like I have been staring like an idiot—no, I must've did. I could feel my jaw still hanging wide open.

"Sorry about that," she explains; she does a shrug that looks like she tries to remove the burden of Kouta's action over her shoulders, "Kouta's an over-sentimental nationalist sometimes... but he's just being immature. His father died in a terrorist attack and he just didn't see eye to eye with that."

I don't know what to say at first. Was Kouta saying something bad and racist to me? I nearly said thank you to him when he was scowling earlier on. I wonder what he could've said?

"Anyway," Maya points at the box in my hand, "Is that the last of it?"

I nod repeatedly. "Yes, this is the last one from your room. Is there anything else?"

"That should be the last one."

"So I guess we only have to say goodbye!"

"There's no need for that... now that Kouta's being like that. I'm not in the mood, honestly. We'll leave right away!"

That's strange. Kouta is one of her close cousin—how could she not say goodbye? Unless he is really being a big ass just now. Now I'm more than curious to know...

"What exactly did he say?" I demand half-heartedly.

Maya stays silent for a while; she just stands there, her back against me, as I wait for her answer. I know even when he speaks English, Kouta's answer never been very nice—he always speaks like he expects a lot from me, and heck, I only know this family for about three weeks. What could he have expected or hated about me?

"It's nothing," her baritone voice tells me to not ask anymore. I feel wrong to have asked her—but for someone who seems to have started it all, I thought I deserved an explanation at the very least. "Let's go. Komatsu-ji is waiting for us."

I nod as I follow her way out; I'm a bit heart broken to know that I might've been the reason why Kouta burst angrily.

I have a feeling that moving to Tokyo may not be such a bad idea after all; dreams are very personal and because it has been following the reality to my memories of when I met Maya and Komatsu-ji, then when I had the rest of the dream, it could've been real just as much. I won't want to be stuck here with Kouta now that I know his full feelings of me nor do I want to stay with Maya.

Maybe Tokyo will give me peace by getting my mind off thinking of those things. Maybe it will work...

(PS: _Ji_ is a short term of _oji-san_, meaning grandfather or old man informally; that's what they call him)

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**_Yes. I finally decided to be spontaneous and defy my usual style of writing! xD This is pretty similar to "No Other Love, No Other Time"; God, that used to be such a romantic idea! Well, I'll try and get on with some of my fics. _

_So this is a multiverse crossover and as you can possible read, there are no appearances from any familiar characters of the said universes. But come Tokyo and there will be appearances, even if only slight. _

_I know I have been slacking, but I don't intend to do so now... or at least try not to! _

_Anyway, don't judge me. I live to serve so any criticism is welcomed. :)_

_Above all else, please enjoy your time reading. If there is any mistakes, you know the drill: point them out and I will try and change'em. Did it in a hurry—it's 1 a.m. where I am now! xD_

_ALSO, I'd like to thank you XER9AF ( u/3472968/XER9AF) for all her opinions and discussions with me on OC and author inserts. hehe_


	3. 2 Tokyo Pill

**Author's Note:  
**_I do not own anything to the great universes of Bleach, Death Note, Liar Game, Ghost Hunt, Naruto, etc. I only own my original characters, which does not originate from the aforementioned universes._

_Anyways, some guidelines to the formats in this story:_

_"What?" _- Japanese language, untranslated unless stated

**_"What?"_ **- Other beings/Supernatural creatures thoughts AND speech

_that _- refers to emphasis or a term that equals with 'that' just without the quotes

* * *

Between Dreams and After Lives

2

Tokyo is a busy place.

They weren't kidding when they say that it's one of the most populated, modern city in the world. I see billboards with bright spotlights and big screen TVs that lit up the night brighter than the moon itself; society walks along the streets so dangerously close and dense within each other, like they have to live by occupying whatever space they see on the street. I could feel the warm air escaping from my lips as I gasp against the truck's glass, watching as people lived.

"_Do you like Tokyo?"_ I hear Mr Komatsu say.

Maya chuckles as she translates for me, "How do you like Tokyo so far?"

"It's awesome!" I squeal happily in my seat as we drive past several popular (as Maya explains) and congested streets; she keeps on translating what I say to the old man who was driving and he responds giddily with a cackle each time. Whenever we'd stop at the red light, I'd stare up at the tall and lighted buildings nearby as if they're gingerbread houses. Speaking of gingerbreads, I'm kind of hungry. "I wonder if there's a place where we could stop by for a while..."

"What seems to be the problem?" I hear Maya say.

I bit my lip as I stifle a laugh—something I learn a bit from Maya, I suppose—and look down on my stomach as it grumbled. She laughs at this, along with the old man, and they drove to a much secluded area where only pedestrians are abundant. He drops us off in a street nearby and Maya and I get out of the car; she leads me past several streets before heading straight to a cake house. We enter the shop and that's when Maya waves at the cashier. She's probably around our age as well; her deep brown hair's sprayed wavy down her collar bone and she shoves her glasses forward as she looks up with a smile.

"_Harada, is this how you spend your psychology research?" _Maya cheers the cashier and they share a quick hug before beginning their long talk—they seem to know each other since high school.

I, on the other hand, am paying my sole attention on the cakes and biscuits that stare back at me behind cold glass. It's almost as if I could hear them pleading me to choose each and every one of them; it is both like a cake Heaven and Hell—they are so plenty and tastefully decorated, but at the same time the dilemma of choosing between them has gotten me slightly crazy. I point at one cake and then at another, before wounding up sputtering _eeny, meeny, miny, moe_ and squealing like a hyper-active child losing her mind; in my enthusiastic fit, I make a short swirl of my waist before bumping into someone.

"Oh, God!" I yelp, bowing incessantly, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so very sorry! How do you say sorry in Japanese?"

While I fixate my eyes on Maya for her response, I hear the person before me laughing amusingly; I press one eye closed, shuddering at the thought of being scolded as I slowly look up.

"It's alright, lass!" he says in a joyful English accent; he was probably slightly younger than Mr Komatsu, as he still has hair, sturdy body and profile as he looks down upon my petite being—but his eyes are shut tight behind his square reading glasses that remained loyal to his nose bridge despite the angle. His pale white hair still thick and neatly combed to the back of his head, exposing his large, genius forehead; but his pale skin wrinkled almost at the same places as Mr Komatsu. He also has a trimmed mustache running along the tip of his upper lip; as I examine him, I see his deep brown suit, equipped from the tie to the vest behind the seams of his coat.

"It's alright, young lady. I suppose you were too giddy and happy to see all these cakes that you lost your balance," he greets me with a smile.

"I-I did..." I blush as I scratch the back of my neck; his British accent forced me to stand much like a young lady.

"And, you speak English! A tourist, perhaps?"

"N-no, adopted," when his eyes widened and muttered a strange 'oh', I sheepishly look away; "Only recently."

"Interesting," his mustache moves according to each of his words he enunciates—to which I almost giggle at, "You don't happen to be the same girl that was found by the river weeks ago, are you? You sure look a bit like her—I saw her picture in the newspapers."

Before I could answer, Maya approaches us; she looks rather angry—maybe she thought the man was actually scolding me. "Are you alright, Hachi?" she says before shifting her eyes towards the old man, "Is this man bothering you?"

"No, he's been very nice to me. We were just talking about my being in the newspaper," I shoot her a look, trying to make her tell me about that—she only mentioned that they had reported to the police and whatnot.

She gulps nervously—a sweat drags itself along her cheeks, "Yes, we had to—just in case people could recognize you. But it's been more than three weeks and there's nothing so far. Just don't worry, Hachi; the online news are updated all the time. If there's anyone out there who're trying to find you, they will."

"That's sad, dear," says the man, "Do you really cannot remember a single thing?"

I nod my head towards the old man, "Yes, unfortunately, I don't."

"Doctors say it's uncertain whether it's permanent," Maya elaborates willingly; she seems to have difficulty guessing what's on the old man's mind. "But it is certainly amnesia."

"Which one exactly?"

"Doctors believe that it's a transient global amnesia."

"Oh, my! That's a pity! It's the worst kind of amnesia to suffer!"

"Indeed," Maya looks away rather disappointedly.

"Well, anyway, curse to my manners!" the old man laughs and extends his hand towards me, "I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Watari."

I nod intently as I gasp, "Is that the Japanese variation of Walter?"

"No," Maya responds suddenly, "It actually means _ferry _in Japanese. But I guess you can consider that in phonics terms."

"Yes, somewhat," says the old man as he manages another chuckle.

"Mr Walter, nice to meet you! I'm Momoko Hotaru—well, that's the name that they gave me," I take his hands and shake them eagerly as I smile.

"I thought she has just called you Hachi?"

"Well, that's—"

A brief replay of my nightmare reflects in my eyes; I stand there frozen for a moment or two before Maya jumps in. I got to hand it to you, I am still shaken up by what happened.

"A nickname that we gave her," she says confidently, "If you go to Shinjuku Station, you'll see a bronze statue that resembles her a bit."

Wait, what? I didn't think we past Shinjuku earlier on, but I wonder what she means?

Mr Walter pauses for a while; he seems to recall the Shinjuku Station and then chuckles adorably at me, "Ah, that statue! But I thought it might have the meaning of the number?"

"That too..." Maya dazes off; shadows fills over her eyes that suddenly reminds me of my nightmare. I wonder if that nightmare was a bit of reality that has been twisted somehow? Is Maya dangerous? Is it true that I'm the eighth survivor and that the other seven before me has died? That's not possible! This man would've known and said something about that!

I couldn't keep my eyes on her for long. I decide to jump in; "So what brings you here?"

Mr Walter eyes on Maya in the same strange way as I did; he looks at her as if he was suspicious that Maya has been keeping me for her own sake, or kidnapped me even—something in the way he acts just shows all of that! Or do I think of that because the dream I had? I wait for his reply, fidgeting profusely as Maya seems to space out with both depression and manic.

"I was here for a cake," Mr Walter explains curtly; he looks behind me and starts browsing around, "I have a..._ friend_ who is incredibly fond of sweet cakes, so I'm here to buy one or two for him. But I've been here for the past week and he's already tried most of the cakes here. Perhaps you care to help me decide which ones I should buy now?"

Cakes? I follow him around as I eye each one—they all look so delectable!

"Um," I pout as I look around while Maya goes on to ask her friends, Miss Harada who in turn scurries into the kitchen, "I would've gone for a pavlova."

I gasp at my own words. Are my memories coming back to me? No, I only seem to remember food; steamed white rice with spicy curry or sweet green curry, chicken soup or Swedish meatballs at IKEA (and just what the hell is that? A Swedish restaurant?), molten chocolate cake with ice cream on top—ice creams and ice cream biscuits, pavlovas with cranberries and strawberries on top. I remember the latter very well—it seems like I've had that before.

But the only thing that I could see is food and I'm suddenly craving for that—a pavlova. That sounds so good and so familiar; perhaps the fact that I was hungry aided this memory recall lapse?

"Interesting choice," says Mr Walter anyhow, ignoring how I looked like a spaceman drifting into space; he doesn't turn to face me as if staring at the corner of his eyes, "Would they have pavlovas, though?"

Maya suddenly jumps in with Miss Harada; "Hachi," she calls onto me, "You're in luck! They've just finished a pavlova."

I nod my head as quick as I could, "What? Only one!" I then turn to look at Mr Walter and smile, "How about we split it in half?"

"You don't mind?" says Mr Walter and I quickly nod my head; he then turns to Miss Harada and nods, _"I appreciate it!"_

"Oh, you speak Japanese as well!" I exclaim, catching Maya grimace in the corner of my eye with the same suspicious stare he had on her.

He nods eagerly, "Why, yes! One or two basic phrases."

Miss Harada comes forward and hands a paper box to both Mr Walter and myself; I quickly take a quick peek and giggle happily, "_Arigatou gozaimasu_ (Thank you very much)!"

"_You're very welcome, miss!" _Miss Harada smiles widely from ear to ear, saying the same to Mr Walter.

To my astonishment, he begins a conversation in fluent Japanese (I guess he was just being humble earlier on); they look so engaged in the conversation, but it seems that Miss Harada knew him already. When I gawk at them like they came from a different planet, Maya comes up from behind me and chuckles. She goes on to translate the conversation for me; apparently, Mr Walter has been coming around here and has ordered nothing but sweet cakes. He even asked around for other cake houses, but when all his hands have already tasted all the cakes available, Mr Walter comes by to collect certain cakes from each houses. Eventually, he winds up at the this store again—but the strawberry shortcake that he wanted is out of stock. There's no choice for him but to try the pavlova, something of which Miss Harada's cake houses have only today. Miss Harada then says something about trying an Australian dessert and that they had too many extra egg whites, prompting them to try it. She looks at me as she adds on to say that I was lucky to have the pavlova today and Mr Walter quips in, saying that it was probably why I was called _Hachi_.

I remember my nightmare once again; it seems that _Hachi_ means eight or eighth and I don't know why that is affiliated to luck. I want so much to ask Maya about it as she laughs along with Mr Walter and Miss Harada—but I'm frightened that the same thing from my nightmare will come out and throw the happy atmosphere off. I try to put up a smile, but I could tell from how Mr Walter raise his eyebrow that it's wavering kind of smile—like a dying light bulb.

"Anyway, I hope your friend will enjoy his pavlova. I hear it's very sweet!" I break the ice awkwardly.

"That's just the way he likes it indeed!" Mr Walter laughs before suddenly turning to Maya, "Miss Komatsu Maya, is it?"

Maya's a little startles at his sudden reference to her; "Yes, that's right."

"Miss Harada mentions that you too have a shop in the area."

"Yes," she nods eagerly, glad to hear his interest, "It's a traditional Japanese tea shop. Hachi here is one of our waitress."

"And how does Miss Hachi feels about that?"

Oh, he seems comfortable calling me that!

I begin to stammer nervously under the state of their eyes, "Well, it's fine really! I've learnt a lot from learning how to brew Japanese tea..."

I leave the pause to ponder on what I said; in truth, what I learnt most is patience and modesty. But those are virtues so I guess they're a lot of lessons. Even if I forgot who I was or what I did, learning this culture is equally fulfilling... and _completely_ new. Or should I say... _foreign_?

"Interesting," Mr Walter smiles at me, "Perhaps I may drop by and visit you sometime... It's nice to have a conversation in English for a change."

"Will you be here a while?" Asks Maya; she quickly hands him a card, which I assume to be the business card.

He nods as he accepts it, "Yes, weeks—if not months. I could use some bitter tea for a change of sweets."

"But please bring your friend with you," I jump in suddenly, "I'm sure we have something sweet for him as well."

"Your thoughts are sweet enough, dear, but he is an _eccentric_ fellow. I'll have to check on him. Anyway, time for me to go—I don't enjoy to keep him waiting!"

"Or the pavlova!"

"Indeed," he slurs smilingly as he puts on his trench coat and hat, walking towards the door; he turns one last time to face me and smiles, "I hope to see you again, Miss Hotaru."

I nod slowly and wave goodbye, as do Maya and Miss Harada; I really do hope to see him again soon. Speaking to him in English just gives a sense of familiarity... kind of like home. Maya glances up to me and tilts her head to the side, calling me up by that gesture alone—I've seen this a few times to know what she means. I follow her to the side and listening in to her statement; her brown eyes seem to be angry at something.

"Why'd you tell him that?"

I shrug. "Tell him what?"

"To bring his friend along. We definitely have nothing sweet from our shop. You'll get us complained!"

"We'll make one up."

"You can't change traditional Japanese tea!"

"But you certainly can fuse them!"

Her anger seems to ease as she thinks back about what I've said; satisfied but still uneasy, she pulls aways from me and nods. "You're right," she raises her chin in thought, "Since you're new, coming up with a new dish and drink just compliments your existence in our establishment. I guess it's not a bad idea... Good job, rookie!"

I nod my head as I sneak a finger into the box of cake, taking in the marriage paste on my digit and into my mouth; "Anyway," I giggle softly, "Let's hurry. This pavlova's begging me to eat it!"

XxXxXxX

L waits patiently for his care taker to arrive; Watari never takes _this_ long to find a cake for him so much so he has just finished the last four slices off. And he takes a while to finish off one slice—at least twenty minutes. He has been reading multiple articles on the web and police files on his desk; several bright screens stare back at him, bringing the strange flash in his dark eyes.

For one genius detective, L never gain weight from eating that many cakes or sweets; in fact, he claims that his sugary diet is meant to solely feed his brain. Hence, he has a lanky, lean body with his back seem to be permanently locked into a hunched position. He walks with a forward slouch, knees bucking, and feet slithering the floor in a shuffling fashion; whenever or wherever he sits, he does so in an unusual position of curling his knees to his chest and taps his fingers on them. If he has something that disturbs him greatly, L would sneak a thumb or fore finger into his mouth and seemingly chew at the edge of it. His spiky black hair always swept to one side—almost a bed-hair, but firm and fragrant as he's pretty obsessive with his showering.

When Watari _finally_ arrives, L slides off from his swivel chair and quickly takes the paper box from him; he opens it quicker than a child at Christmas before taking the half-sliced pavlova into his bare hands. He knows exactly what a pavlova is and he devours it as if it could satisfy every nook and cranny of his sugar rush. After that somewhat quick dinner, he goes back to his chair and stare intently at the monitors; in the background, Watari goes around cleaning up some of the small messes and goes through the paperwork.

They work better in silence and though he wanted very much for an explanation as to why his cake was only half, L focuses on the case in hand; he quickly takes up his hand to his face, shoving and grounding the tips of his fore finger against his teeth.

"By the way, L, you never guess just what I stumble into at the cake house," Watari speaks while busying his hand through the files; he picks one up, walks towards to monitors and hands it over to L.

In return, L is atonished by what he's reading; it's an article about a girl that was found by the river in the rural provinces of the Nagano Prefecture. He's read this on the plane while on his way to Japan, but because the strange cases of criminals dying from heart attacks have more urgency, he dismissed it. Nevertheless, he was just as much interested in the case as any—Watari showing him this after saying what he did only means one thing to him.

He turns to Watari now, wide-eyed at his own conclusions; "Watari," he mumbles, "Are you trying to tell me that you've stumbled on something on _this_ case?"

"Yes," Watari replies curtly, standing straight beside L as their eyes stare at each other before back hovering towards the paper. "I met with the victim myself."

L's dark eyes widen once more. "Here—in Tokyo?"

"Yes. Quite the lovely young woman—speaks fluent English, though she seems Asian nevertheless. She was accompanied by the woman who saved her and they gave her a new name, even a place to work at the family business. I have the card right here."

L's eyes strain themselves to trail Watari's movements and gaze intently at the card; he suddenly stands up and grabs them with only his thumb and fore finger. "Where and when exactly did you meet her?" He says, pulling his hands up as he reads the card—head titling to one side.

"At the cake house. She took half of your pavlova."

His eyes widen a bit before L returns to his normal position on the chair and bites the tip of his other finger attentively; "Ah, so she's the culprit..."

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**_There. There's L. Need I say more? _**  
**

_More to come! More to come! *cries in a corner* This ain't easy. lolz_


	4. 3 Adjustments

**Author's Note:  
**_I do not own anything to the great universes of Bleach, Death Note, Liar Game, Ghost Hunt, Naruto, etc. I only own my original characters, which does not originate from the aforementioned universes._

_Anyways, some guidelines to the formats in this story:_

_"What?" _- Japanese language, untranslated unless stated

**_"What?"_ **- Other beings/Supernatural creatures thoughts AND speech

_that _- refers to emphasis or a term that equals with 'that' just without the quotes

* * *

Between Dreams and After Lives

3

It's been a month. And I get along with the shophouse better than I actually thought!

It's probably because it looks just like the house that we left back in the Nagano Prefecture (but no Kouta! Yay!). It's a corner wooden house at the end of a busy street near Karakura Bus Station—it's about half-an-hour journey by foot, fifteen by subway or bicycle from Tokyo. Karakura is a suburban town west of Tokyo, surrounding itself in mostly shophouses, linked or semi-detached houses (a few clusters of mansions are abound), schools (from kindergarten to high school), temples and other amenities that makes it so convenient to live here. While it is so close to Tokyo, Karakura also has an air about it that makes it so serene and peaceful—so secluded from the hustle and bustle of the modern, high tech city. So far, I like living here in Karakura; it's definitely different from staring at Kouta's glare all day and taking what could be insults from his mouth.

Here, I have my own room, but it barely fits me in (it's supposed to be a store room). The walls around the room are in fact wardrobes in disguise and that's where I hang most of the clothes that Maya gave me. If I would have to guess, I'd estimate that the width of the room about six feet and the depth to be around three or four (the width of the room is where I lay my bare futon bed). I sleep here alone and without any windows for the sunlight to break into—but if I open my doors in the morning, the kitchen area, which it opens up to, compensates for it. The kitchen area is pretty normal and homely sized except for the existence of two or four traditional water boiler (apparently heirlooms); it has several sliding window panels, which basically has no curtains whatsoever. So as I wake up and get out of my room, the blaring sunlight comes piercing into my eyes. I've stumbled over a kettle before—it takes a while to get use to waking up to that.

Oh, and by the way, my room is raised three feet above the ground. Hence the fact that I keep falling off.

As for the progress of my learning the ways of brewing traditional Japanese tea, I've advanced as far as a certified novice and now works under Maya's sole instruction (it took me a whole week to learn the pouring ways itself).

We have other workers too, of course; there's this guy called Ishida Uryuu who rarely comes to work (thanks to his other part-time work schedule—I haven't seen him around though) but he's apparently on par with Maya. Then there's another guy called Nobuo and Ren who works constantly with one another (but they're both apprentices under Uryuu) and about three girls who works at the same level as me. The girls each have their own reasons for doing the job—for one of them (perhaps the only one that's loud and friendly), she does it for plain money; two other girls does it for research, something that they did after a bet with Maya (who comes from a different university than them so they challenge each other—apparently, they fight in high school too). Other than these few youngsters, there's this once jobless man who tends the garden outside—he too comes by every now and then much like Uryuu. Either way, they have all been here for more than three years and I'd say that's more experience than me—novice, apprentice, or gardeners alike.

"_Hajimemashita_ (Pleased to meet you)," I stammer as I bow at them: Nubou, Ren and the three girls.

Nubou has blonde hair with shades of brown in them; his eyes are deep brown as well—the friendlier guy as compared to Ren. Ren is spiky and dark haired, smoking guy. He accompanies his presence with that faint smell of cigarettes, a scowl and furrowed eyebrows; he'd always have glares with his equally bleak eyes. He has earrings over his eyebrows too and his ears—he has that 80s punk look (apparently this is the look that Maya explains to me). But he's still much better than Kouta... I hope. As for the three girls: one is Yamada Umeiko—a long, black haired (which is tied to a ponytail resting on her right shoulder) and grey eyed young woman with a pair of sharp edged glasses, one is Inochi Fumie—another long haired person (but her hair is sandy blonde colored) and she lets them loose with a bit of curl at the ends with chocolaty eyes (she's the type who goes in trend) and the last one one is Nozomi Nana—another blonde but short haired (pixie haired) person like me, that has an aura of a cheerful and incredibly friendly (if not a bit dumb) child. In fact, with her brown eyes glowing, she opens up her arms and hugs me.

"_Kawaii!"_ she hugs tightly in her arms, as if attempting to break me. _"Maya, where did you get her?"_

"_Let her go, Nana. She's not a toy,"_ says Maya as she sighs; _"Alright, everyone. Introduce yourselves._ Hachi, they'll tell you their names."

I nod as I then turn to the young woman in front of me; she grins widely as she says her name, "Nozomi Nana."

"Yasutora Nobuo," says Nobuo as he smiles, "Pleased to meet you."

Ah, so he speaks English.

"Kenichi Ren."

"Yamada Umieko," she shoves her glasses upwards, "Second in command."

I turn to Maya, to which she merely replies with; "Ignore her."

"Inochi Fumie. Pretty girl," she exclaims while pointing at herself before sticking her tongue at both Maya and Umieko.

"_As you all know," _says Maya, ignoring any bantering from the two girls earlier or from the fact that Nana is still holding onto me very tightly, _"We're going to start our business today. Umieko, you're right; as much as I hate to say this, you're second in command_—_until and unless Uryuu reappears, you are. As for both Nobuo ad Ren, you two are going to be apprentices under her_—_"_

"_Hey! How come Umieko gets to handle two guys?"_ Fumie fumes suddenly; I wonder what's got her like that?

Maya shakes her head; _"Because Umieko and Uryuu is on par with me. That's why they both can handle apprentices. Again, this is until and unless Uryuu makes his appearances. This is only to cope with the weeks ahead as we will start our businesses. Understood?"_

"_Fine!" _growls Fumie.

"_Any questions?"_

Nana raises her hand eagerly, her other hand still wrapped around my shoulder; _"So, does she understand Japanese?"_

"_Of course, not!"_ Umieko scoffs, _"She only speaks and understand English. Right, Maya-san?"_

I stifle my giggle at the musically way she calls for Maya. This attracts Nana's attention once more, "_Eh? How do you expect us to communicate?"_

"_You know both Umieko and Nobuo speaks English well—they're both in college. As for you, Ren and Fumie, you'll just have get used to it,"_ Maya turns to me and pulls me away from Nana; _"I told you to learn the basics once before, right, Nana, Fumie?"_

"_Well, it's annoying to study!"_ pouts Fumie.

Nana's the only one who took that statement seriously—whatever it was, _"Dang! I should've learnt English!"_

"_I'm not going to talk to her,"_ says Ren as he takes out a cigarette and lights it up; _"I've no interest in all that."_

He looks rather—or _very_—uninterested.

"_As expected from you,"_ Maya grumbles rather frustratingly.

Just as they're about to rebel each other, Mr Komatsu comes joining us in his uniform; _"Hey! Why are you youngsters still in your normal wear?"_ he yells loudly as he raises his walking cane, _"Where are your uniforms?"_

Maya quickly whispers into my ear, "Hachi, get into your uniform."

I could guess he said something like that.

I nod before making my ways towards the changing room with the girls—okay, I lied. It's not a changing room!

The boys always changed first, before letting the girls use the bathroom and change. Ren wear some pretty rock-band stuffs with leather pants and chained wallets and belts while Nobuo wears a plain t-shirt with jeans; the girls wear pretty much the same thing—Fumie, being the fashionable one (and more feminine), wears a laced blouse with skirt, Umieko wears the same without laces and with pants, while Nana wears something that was much similar to Nobuo. So here I am, struggling to get out of my clothes while being hampered by the existences of three other girls. Umieko seems to have her eye on me—in a very malicious way, if you know what I mean—while Nana smiles at me a lot. I'm starting to think that she's attracted to me...

"Excuse me," I hear Umieko say; she still has her eyes on me so I assume that she was talking to me, "Why did Maya call you Hachi?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"_Useless pig,"_ she grunts in Japanese, to which she receives a glare from Nana—another Kouta is already here, it seems. She's not saying anything nice if Nana acts like that! _"What? Are you going to complain to Maya?"_

Nana's eyes twitch in anger, _"If you do that again, I'm not going to need Maya's help to beat you up!"_

"_Mou, you're such a tomboy!"_

I seem to recognize that she said _tomboy_, which is right to say that Nana's like that. I didn't know what else to say but I can fairly assume Nana only understands the first thing that I say, "Thank you, Nana. You don't have to worry about me. I can take it!"

Nana sheepishly scratches the back of her head; _"It's nothing."_

"_Great. Now we have two useless pigs to handle,"_ says Fumie as she ties up the cotton rope around her waist. She then flips her hair at me and Nana, before walking out of the room with Umieko.

I stare blankly at Nana; she's biting her lower lips as she cringe at them. She's obviously angry. I take a mental note to try and learn Japanese—it's easy if you know that they're saying a word that's taken from the English language (like _tomboy_). But they don't speak English adopted words all the time!

As Nana ties up her uniform, I stare at the mirror in the bathroom; I seem to look like a Japanese already—the simple yukata over my plain t-shirt adds more to the effect. The uniform is a thin, yukata of light brown color—almost pink—and the seams of the yukata (at the collar and sleeves) are maroon in colour; the rope around my waist, which is to keep the yukata from opening up, is also in the same maroon colour.

I swipe some of my fringe to one side and keep on staring; I'm just about their size too—Maya and Umieko's the exception though... they're high enough to play netball.

Then, Nana suddenly taps on my shoulder; her reflection giggling as it comes to join mine.

"_If you're done, we're ready to go!"_ she pauses as she looks plainly into my eyes—suddenly she slams her palm into her forehead, _"I forgot! You don't know what I'm saying!_ Let's go!"

Her attempt at that simple sentence of English nearly made me laugh; it sounds more like _lessu goh_. I thank God silently for not having remove my memory of language.

Nana opens up the door and we hear bells ringing in the kitchen; Umieko comes into the kitchen and Fumie with the other boys exclaim to note what she says before preparing the drinks. Maya stands near the bathroom door, leaning her back against the wall as she observes them. Quickly, Nana speaks to her and nods frequently as Maya gives out orders. Then she leaves me in Maya's able hands. For a while, I do nothing but stare.

Then suddenly Umieko comes in to say something rather urgent, to which Maya turns to me and say; "A customer has just spilt her tea. You're cleaning up."

Cleaning up? That sucks for a first job!

But I nod my head urgently as I head for under the sink; I grab a pail and fill it up with water, a dry cloth and spill some of the cleaners into the pail. I then make my way out the kitchen. I startle to see Mr Komatsu watching me as I move; I remember what Maya says about walking in front of customers or elders—feet by feet, no wide gestures, thigh against thigh. She's also told me not to raise my hands to high or to let my elbows be exposed, unless it is accompanied with a verbal apology (that's either "Sumi-masen" or "Gomen-nasai")—she says it's a geisha thing.

You see, this Japanese traditional tea shop actually exerts tea ceremonial into their waitressing; that means, guests will enter the shop like they would enter a tea ceremony. Maya says; "The tea ceremony is a symbol of patience, respect, purity and peacefulness. When the guests enter, they wash their hands at the stone basin outside (which explains it, I keep wondering what the basin at the entrance was for!) and they enter guided by the master, which is Komatsu-ji. He leads them through the _roji_ which is the small garden that you saw earlier (which has a wicket gate, stepping stones, stone and paper lanterns). Then he leads them to any one of the tea rooms, where one of the waitresses are already waiting and they serve _wagarashi_..." so on so forth. The whole ceremony takes about two hours for each customer, which is less two hours as compared to an actual tea ceremony.

Apparently, Komatsu-ji is a man of equality and he wanted to offer that in the way of giving tea ceremonies to everyone; the shophouses, which he claims is about hundreds of years old, has been used for tea ceremonies alone. Growing up, he wanted everyone to know the joy of practicing tea ceremonies - at least, that's before he quitted as a Shinto monk. I kneel my way before the door and slide it open; I quickly bow silently and as I raise myself (only as high as my knees' length), I mutter a weak, "Sumi-masen," and slowly begins to walk towards the tatami floor on the other side of the room. My customers all remain silent as they watch.

Maya's told me not to look at the customers in the eye so I don't; I don't even know how many of them are there. I kneel once more at the site of the accident and takes the dry cloth earlier, wiping it in one whole swipe. Then, I dip it into the pail and silently pull out the wet cloth, turning it on each ends to dry it—I do it right above the water to control the sound that I'm making. I'm not suppose to make any sound at all.

"_Thanks,"_ I hear the customer say. I know _Arigato_ by itself means an informal _thank you_ or specifically _thanks_, but I'm not suppose to respond.

I then take the cloth out of the pail and make another swipe across the stained tatami floor. The spilled tea is out of sight, for now. I hold my breath from sighing and stands up the same way before, making my way to the door—all the while not giving my back to the customer. I open the door with my hand, while facing the customer, and then walk backwards out to the hallway and kneel again. I bow slightly and say, "Sumi-masen."

I close the door and held my breath still.

"_I can't believe it, Kurosaki-kun!" _I hear the customer burst as soon at the door meets the panel.

The customer that said 'thanks' suddenly grunts, _"Yeah, I couldn't believe my eyes when I hear about this place reopening. I thought it's dead for sure!"_

"_Hey, don't say it like that!"_ says a more assertive, tomboy-ish toned voice—female still. _"I think it's impressive! She's not our waitress, but she cleans up real silent!"_

The first customer to speak suddenly squeals, _"That's right! It reminds me of an old geisha drama or something!"_

"_Yeah, but this work don't come easy,"_ says the rather unenthusiastic customer who grunts earlier on.

I don't know what they're saying, but when that lady mentions _geisha_ earlier on, I was smiling widely from ear to ear. I make my way to the kitchen before bowing at Komatsu-ji who still stands there in the hallway. He nods smilingly back at me and I quicken my pace slowly, albeit doing it thigh-by-thigh. I know now why Maya keeps telling me to wear pants rather than skirts, or that if I wore skirts, I should be wearing tights underneath.

When I enter the kitchen, Nana greets me with another hug; _"She survives!"_

"_Nana, pipe down! Komatsu-ji is right outside!"_ Umieko yells angrily as she shoves her glasses—she loves doing it. Honestly.

"_Let me take that!"_ Nana takes up my pail and sends it off under the sink. She cheerfully starts working on the other tasks (like nearly setting the sweets or tea on fire).

I could finally release my breath and sigh very deeply.

Maya comes to me and drags me to the quieter edge of the kitchen; "Congratulations," she smiles as she pats on my head, "You've passed the first test. You made not a single sound while washing off the dirt and you didn't say anything more than than the apology. That's good!"

Did they actually listen it to my work? They actually could? Wow.

"Thanks," I say gladly, "It was kind of daunting!"

"Well, it is a tea ceremony. It is meant to be daunting!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But I think I know what Komatsu-ji wants to convey with this shop."

She looks at me strangely before paying attention to Umieko loud rantings; "Oh, by the way, you're on rubbish duty today."

I nod hesitantly before waiting for the first five customers (I hear Maya says) to finish. Maya says that we clear our rubbish after each customer to avoid piling up, so that means I will go back and forth to the dumpster outside; before I leave, however, she makes me change into a different set of clothes—ones that made me look like an astronaut (it's basically an oversized bee-suit if you ask me—equipped with a mask-like visor over my face). It's suppose to protect me from the germs, so that if I change back into my normal uniform, I won't be able to be smelly or dirty or anything like that... if you know what I mean.

As I step outside through the back door, I could hear the same customers earlier walking out; they talk rather loudly about something and I could see with the corner of my eyes that they wore high school uniforms. It amazes me that they actually went to a tea ceremony despite being that young.

I make my way towards the brick ledges that surround our compound and out the back gate—it screeches suddenly as I push it. To tell you the truth, I could almost hear Maya sighs annoyingly from inside. I gulp before taking up the dumpster lid and throw the thrash into it.

"_So there you are!"_

I jump to hear that voice. It sounds so familiar—I turn around quickly to find a spiky, orange haired boy with brown eyes and tan skin looking straight at me. He's taller than me by about two or three foot, standing with his arms flinging his bag over his left shoulder and his right hand in his pocket; his broad shoulders makes him look larger and more confident as he's looking down on me so expectantly.

I realize my position and quickly mutter, "Sumi-masen!"

"_Don't you have anything else to say than that?"_

"I'm sorry," I hear myself shifting to English, "I don't understand Japanese..."

He looks surprised to hear me. "That's okay," he speaks it rather well, "I'm not telling anyone."

"Thank you!" I gasp as I sigh.

He then points at my face, saying, "Take that off, will you?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to see your face."

But then, he'll know which girl I am and then tell people that the shop recruits someone who doesn't speak Japanese. That'll ruin the shop's reputation! Oh, what should I do?

"I said I won't tell, didn't I?"

"But I really can't risk it!"

"Komatsu-ji knows my father and I know Maya. They'll let me see you. Now take that thing off!"

For some reason, I feel obliged to open that mask off and trust him; so I do as I was told. Sweat filled my brows slowly as I look back up on him, his eyes widen.

"I was right—you're the girl who cleaned up Inoue's mess," he says.

I nod, "Yeah, I'm the one who cleans up."

"What's your name?"

God, now he's asking for my name!

"Look," he leans towards me, distancing himself only two inch between myself, and growls rather angrily, "I'm just interested to know if you're the one that they call Hachi, or someone called Momoko Hotaru - the girl that Maya found while in Nagano. So tell me your name."

I nod blushingly, feeling his breath on my skin; "Yes, yes! That's me."

He froze for a while, maintaining the same leaning position; "So you're Hachi?" he watches as I nod again—reconfirming his satifaction, he then says, "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. "

"Um, hi?" I wonder where this is going...

"So you're Hachi, huh? What are you doing working here?"

"Well, I," I pause as I follow his eyes, looking back at the tea shop before right back at him, "I just needed to work."

He chortles as he pulls himself back; "That's a funny excuse to work."

"Better than unemployment, I guess."

"Better than Nana's excuse of just _looking_ for money."

"Do you know Nana?"

He scoffs again as he stands straight, "Yeah. I know every single of the workers here—my dad knows Komatsu-ji and they're pretty close!" We startle to hear someone calling for me; Ichigo quickly looks back to me, "Hey, I think you better go. I don't want them to scold you for talking to me."

"Thanks," I nod as I put the mask back on. He chuckles at me putting it on; "What?" I say very angrily.

He waves his hands as he shrugs from stifling his laugh, "It's nothing! Just go!"

I walk off with a pout and shut the gate close, before running back to the back of the shop; I could see Ichigo creasing his eyebrows worriedly as I ran off. I wonder why he's curious to see me and why I feel like I've seen or heard him before.

XxXxXxX

"You what?" Maya gasp rather loudly; her face stuck between pleasant and disturbed. I've seen that look many times now.

I hush her and point my finger to my lips; "Not so loud!"

She's in the kitchen, brushing her hair when I decided to tell her what happened earlier on. We just finish our business hours at eight and now wrapping up to go to sleep; she always lights up a paper lantern for me in my small and dark room, and that's when I've told her. She stands before me, lips still parting in a gasp, as she digests what I've just explained to her.

"Hachi, what did I tell you? Don't talk to customers!"

I sigh, "I know. But he insisted. And he's outside the premises - so he's no longer a customer then!"

"While your points are valid, I still think you shouldn't have listened to him and talk—even if he said I won't mind."

"Well, do you?"

She smirks and shrugs her shoulders, "No."

"Hey!" I lightly tap her on the shoulders for panicking me, "I was in a panic when you gasp like that!"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. Anyways, yeah, I don't mind you talking to customers outside of the shop. But Komatsu-ji might be angry if you don't do it right. If you're not on your shift and bump into customers outside, you may talk to them. He's pretty protocol-wise, you know, so obey him—it's for the better."

"Okay, I'll try."

"And what exactly did Kurosaki say?"

Maya's on last name basis with him? She only calls other people with their first name—it's the first time I've heard her call someone with their last name. She must be really close to him, or respect him. "He basically said he wants to know who I am, or who Momoko Hotaru was."

"He's heard about it, huh?" Maya ponders loudly.

"How does he know about me?"

She looks displeased as she turns her eyes to me; "Actually," she sighs, "His dad is your doctor."

"His dad is a doctor? He doesn't look like a doctor's son."

"Oh, trust me. The father doesn't even look like doctor! Anyway, did he say anything else?"

"Aside from not wanting me to be scolded by you for talking to him, no."

Maya chortles lightly, "That's just like him. He's always so curious about his dad's patients."

"So, when are you going to tell me about this doctor of mine?"

"He's only one of five," she explains, wrapping her arms to her chest—a rather defensive posture, if you ask me. "We've had about four other doctors to reaffirm his opinions—but I guess, yeah, he's the first doctor that attended you. I was going to tell you when Kurosaki-sensei comes by himself, but it seems that his son is quicker than him."

"So when will I see him and... Why do you call him sensei?"

"We call teachers or doctors that. Tomorrow you might be able to see Kurosaki-sensei."

"Alone, I hope?"

She nods with her eyes closed while her sweat drops from the side of her face; "I hope so too. Anyway, go to bed. You should be sleeping after all your hard work!"

"Y-yeah, okay."

She watches as I lift my legs into my room in the wall and slide the door close; I stay behind the door with the lantern in my hand, waiting for her to leave. Eventually, footsteps follow and begin to move away from the kitchen area. I could've fallen asleep with all my tiredness, but somehow, that nightmare comes back to haunt me in the back of my mind. I wind up staring back at the ceiling, watching the fire from the lantern as it faltered one or two times, and just waited for it to die. But time moves so slowly now.

I try to think back about Kurosaki Ichigo—he's more attractive than Nobuo (who already has a girlfriend, by the way) and definitely is not punk-ish like Ren. Plus, he speaks great English—okay, not _that_ good like how Mr Walter can shift from English to Japanese and English again so easily. But he did it pretty well, that Kurosaki Ichigo.

Kurosaki.

Ichigo.

Honestly, where have I heard of that name before?

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**_Yes. Ichigo has made his appearance. __All I can say for now is that he is able to speak English! For reasons of which you will soon find out... if you haven't got a clue. Well, I'll give you some: _

_1) The fact that that Hotaru is called "Hachi"_

_2) The fact that she has a repeated nightmares of a Hollow_

_3) Ichigo can see spirits_

_Hm, I think I may have lost my appeal! xD_


	5. 4 The Doctor

**Author's Note:  
**_I do not own anything to the great universes of Bleach, Death Note, Liar Game, Ghost Hunt, Naruto, etc. I only own my original characters, which does not originate from the aforementioned universes._

_Anyways, some guidelines to the formats in this story:_

_"What?" _- Japanese language, untranslated unless stated

**_"What?"_ **- Other beings/Supernatural creatures thoughts AND speech

_that _- refers to emphasis or a term that equals with 'that' just without the quotes

* * *

Between Dreams and Nightmares

4

The next morning, Umieko announces that Nana fell ill and that I will take her place; I'm completely against this! Even though Nana herself is actually a trainee like me, I have no experience of serving up a customer. While Umieko immerse herself talking to Komatsu-ji, I take notice Ren watching me from a far—his creepy dark eyes following my every move. I gulp as he catches my gaze and smirk, but before I could react in anyway, Nobuo comes up next to me.

"The trick to Ren is," he whispers, "that you ignore him and his flirtations. And you'll be fine!"

I gulp a second time. "What happens if I don't ignore him?"

"Do you like him?"

I quickly shake my head. Third time gulp. "No," I giggle nervously, "I don't like him at all. He's not my type.."

"I see..." God, why does this have to happen today?!

Maya has to go to her university back in Tokyo, since she has to hand in her presentation and research which she has just finalized after the summer; I am now completely and utterly defenseless. Komatsu-ji knows nothing about the politics and hostilities lying about in the kitchen—he wouldn't even know how to handle it. Maya was and is the only one who could handle it, and she's gone at the moment I need her most and Umieko is taking advantage of that as soon as she stepped out of the door and Nana is not here to help me out as well!

Oh God! One bad thing after the other!

Not to mention, Ren is about to make a move—I could feel it! He's like a snake slithering around with its tongue out, tasting the air and sensing the heat of its prey.

Umieko seems to catch my uncomfortable stare. "Hachi," she calls on; her voice is dingy and sharp, "You're on duty to serve—I don't care what you say. Komatsu-ji seems to think you're ready. In fact, he's called for you. He has a customer for you so get going!" I couldn't say _no _to that. There was just no way. She's just used Komatsu-ji to her own advantage as well!

As she shoves her glasses inward as confidently as ever, I make my way out of the kitchen, grabbing the round tray and scroll menus, and enter the hallway outside; it feels so much better to have none of her eyes on you. Anyways, just when I thought I was safe, I catch the glimpse of Ren standing and leaning against the wall in the hallway. He has his arms crossed to his chest. I just knew in my twisting knot of a stomach that something's just incredibly off—other than the fact that I've lost my past memories.

"_I'm here to say congratulations on passing on as a waitress,"_ he goes on in Japanese, still retaining the same kind of stare and pose, _"I wonder how long you'll last here..."_

I'm sick of people thinking I could understand them, so I walk past him—or so I thought. I swear I could see him raising his knee just a bit and pointing his feet up as I walked over, before stumbling over his feet and fall face down with a loud thud on the tatami floor—you must understand, falling like that make the tatami floor feel like rattan flying across your whole body (I don't know how I know what a rattan is). The pain first started on my head as my face pinned to the floor by the impact; the heat rushed like wildfire from my face and down my chest, where my breasts feel numbed. Other than that, I could totally hear the panic unfolding in the back of the room and in the front.

Komatsu-ji comes out from the customer's room; he looks terribly at me, but he has incredible timing. He catches Ren shifting his feet from mine, as if guilty, and immediately, he knows what went on. He starts to yell at Ren in utterly incomprehensible Japanese and before long, Umieko and the others join them in the hallway. Umieko tries to keep her cool and maintain that nothing's happened between me and Ren (that's the conversation Nobuo is kind enough to translate). I tell Nobuo nothing happened and he duly translates it.

Ren is a hostile prick. Giving him hostility would be exactly what he wanted and I don't want to ever give him what he wanted. Just as Nobuo helps me up, the customer from where Komatsu-ji came out off joins us as well, much to our surprise.

"_Is everything alright?"_ comes the cheerful voice; I look up to see a fairly tall man in much like a pair of green yukata of deeper shade inside the lighter one (the one outside acts like a coat and looks much like a yukata, except it is worn openly) coming out from the room. He has his unkempt impression about him, equipped with an unshaven stubble around his chin. His short and pointy blonde hair digs out of his black and white striped hat, which shadowed his eyes as he stares back at us; his pale skin glistens much like Mr Walter—making me doubt if he was even Japanese.

"_Urahara-san,"_ says Komatsu-ji apologetically as he bows and I'm assuming that's his name because it didn't sound like a word (especially where suffixes like -san is concerned, Maya said), _"Please forgive us. There's a terrible incident that occurred—an accident, if you will."_

The man shrugs—for some reason, he eyes me down and smiles, as if he knew I was serving him. _"Is my waitress okay?"_

Komatsu-ji looks back at me and Nobuo, to which the blond young man replies; _"Yes, she's fine.")_

"_Well then, I hope things can be solved as quickly as ever with you Komatsu-ji. I'll be waiting!"_

As soon as the customer sneaks his way into the room, the atmosphere shifts back to us employees.

"_There's no choice! I'll deal with you later!"_ Komatsu-ji glares at Ren, who does nothing but scoff in return; he turns towards Nobuo and I.

"_Don't think you're all noble for this, foreigner,"_ Ren mutters this as he walks past us two.

I see Komatsu-ji shaking his head as Ren walks off—Nobuo refuses to translate what he says, as if it would disappoint me. Honestly, I've dealt with people like Ren (okay, only Kouta _and_ Umieko by far), but I think I have it all worked out; I know he says something jesting when he walks off just now—I could definitely understand that much. As I stand properly now, moving every single one of my limbs so I wouldn't feel numb later, I nod at Komatsu-ji and walk off. But someone grabs my hand.

"Wait a minute!" Umieko demands, "You're not going to see the customer like that."

I pause. "But things have to go on, Umieko. You already have two customers in your hand and Nobuo changes shifts with Ren for their three customers who are still waiting. Not forgetting, Fumie has to be the one to take care of kitchen duties. Obviously someone has to take care new customers that come in while you were busy. You said so yourself!"

"I-I did! But after this incident, you must be tired and—"

Before she could go on any further, I raise my hand and that stop words coming out of her vulgar mouth. I knew it—she's doing this right at the very beginning: from the moment Maya left, she planned this. She wanted me to fall. She wanted to take my customer. She wanted to look good and hardworking in Komatsu-ji's eyes, since he has absolutely no idea about this hostility—not until just now.

Nobuo has just finished translating our conversation to Komatsu-ji as I slowly begin to speak; "I said it's fine—I'm totally fine. There's nothing Ren or you could do to stop me. This was my customer and I'm doing it. Don't ask someone to do something only to stop them half-way, Umieko."

"_That's right, Umieko,"_ says Komatsu-ji this time, looking rather satisfied himself; he slides both his hands into the sleeves of his yukata. _"Hachi will serve the customer. Even if she was injured badly, there is no way you're going to take her customer—she has been requested to serve them."_

I don't know what he said but when Umieko widen her eyes like that, I could tell it was nothing pretty. But then, Nobuo smiles at me and tells me to proceed; I could tell he was conveying Komatsu-ji's orders because the old man quickly nods his head. I nod back and walk off freely this time.

Just like yesterday, I walk thigh-by-thigh as I head for the room and kneel by the door; my customers are talking to one another—they seem to be around two or three men. I slide it open with my head low on the floor and bows, which is met with sudden silence from my customers, before barely lifting myself and crawled my way out of the hallway; without turning, I slide the door close. I mutter an apology before heading towards the square table in the middle of the room, handing out the scrolls.

Like all frequent customers, they take the scrolls and open it horizontally, reading the menu with variety of beverages (mainly tea, of course) and food (yes, we have that. Komatsu-ji believes that a three-course meal is important for a tea ceremony, so there is food aside from sweets). I keep my eyes on the tatami floor as my customers begin to choose.

"_Do we just talk?"_ says one of them, not the man that appeared to check on me earlier on.

The same man I mentioned suddenly chuckled and hums, _"Well, you could just talk to her, Kurosaki._ (At this, I was surprise; I know he says the name, but without understanding what he means!) _But in English, of course!"_

"_Right,"_ the first man who spoke earlier coughs and clears his throat, "So, you must be Hachi?"

I'm quite surprised to hear he has spoken in English and quite well too—it's funny how I've recently met with people who understands the only language I understand. I slowly look up and smile, trying to not maintain eye contact. But I know that when he said _Hachi _(and given that he was a Mr Kurosaki so he must be Kurosaki-sensei, my doctor), he knew who I was and that I couldn't escape.

I nod slightly, _"Hai, watashi wa Hachi desu._ (Yes, I am Hachi.)"

I could only manage that much—Maya has taught me that last minute before she left. Maybe because she knew that I would be vulnerable and that I would see Kurosaki-sensei?

"That's okay! You can speak English."

As I turn to my left side, the blond man earlier smiles at me, "Yes, yes! Converse in English, please!"

"Do you not mind?" I ask; that was a formal way of asking. It must be because I'm in the mood of geisha-ing and that the tea ceremony demands it. Ugh.

They both shake their heads. "No! No! No! Please!" They say in unison.

I smile widely from ear to ear. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

"So, Hachi," says the blond man as he sighs in relief, "How is it going so far?"

I frown. "Excuse me?"

He glances up at Kurosaki-sensei who sits on my right; I notice that Kurosaki-sensei has dark, raven hair—each strand spiky and rebellious, pointing at whichever direction it wants, but mainly the middle part raises up above his head much like the common school kid. His skin is as tan as his son's and his body built-up as well, perhaps a more bigger version of Ichigo's. He has thin sideburns that merge with his goatie—it's actually quite tolerable, seeing as I don't know how to handle moustaches. But he smiled very genuinely each time. And does not look like a doctor indeed... at least not while wearing that floral yellow polo shirt and dark purple velvet pants.

"Oh, right!" Kurosaki-sensei exclaims at the sight of the blond man's man glance, "Hachi, how's your memory going so far? Do you still not remember anything?"

It's then that I see a man sitting across me; he's larger than the two of them and has that thick moustache over his upper lips. He's much muscular and bulky as well—sitting with his arms crossed like that, I wonder if he purposely wanted to look intimidating. He has a bandana wrapped around at the top of his head, obscuring the colour or shape of his hair from showing; I couldn't help but look away, stifling my laugh at his funny moustache and fitting thick eyebrows.

It comes to light in my mind that I haven't answered Kurosaki-sensei; he was obviously referring to my amnesia. He is my doctor and so he probably comes over to visit for this purpose—still, was there a need for such a bodyguard? I hesitantly look at the blond man; he looks at me very expectantly with his eyes wide open and the menu dropping from his hand. Is he surprised that I looked at him?

He sheepishly begin to scratch his neck, "W-what is it? Is there something on my face?"

No.

Actually, now that I see him more clearly, he looks rather familiar—that's the strange feeling I get with him. It's like I've seen him before or know him—it's the same feeling I get with Ichigo. Do I know him?

"Hachi?" I hear Kurosaki-sensei's calling me, "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

I quickly nod my head and come up with a quick white lie. "Yes! I feel absolutely fine. It's just that I was distracted by that... man over there."

"Oh, old Tessai, eh?" Kurosaki-sensei chuckles, "Sorry 'bout that! He doesn't mean to scare you!"

The big man starts to shift in his seat; "I apologize," and reveals that he somehow or rather speaks English as well. Have all the sentimentalities of Japanese changed now? I didn't think they'd easily open up to speaking in English. How do I even know Japanese hate English? Well, they did try to fight with the West...

"No, I should be the one apologizing," I hear myself say, "It's rude to stare like that. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. I get that a lot," says the big man with a very deep voice albeit smilingly.

"Onwards to other matters," says the blond man; he's the one clearing his throat this time, "How's your memories, Hachi? Are they coming back?"

I shake my head reluctantly; "No," I lower my gaze as I think about it, "Nothing's coming back so far. The only thing I know is how to speak, how to do certain things—like walking, brushing my teeth, etc—but nothing that would help me know who I am or what I did or where I belong."

"That's unfortunate. Transient global amnesia are rather rare, right, Kurosaki?"

Kurosaki-sensei nods his head; he looks very serious. "Yes, you're right, Kisuke."

"I'm sorry, but, how did you come to the conclusion that I have that?" I ask urgently.

"I was actually torn between diagnosing that you have either retrograde amnesia or that. You see, it seems that you have fine semantics memory, but your episodic memories are a little hazy—you know who you are in the matter of your personality, your own liking or disliking and whatnot. But it seems that who you are—name-wise, I mean—is completely forgotten and it's just that it's very rare people with retrograde amnesia completely forgets who they are or what they have done in the past. I would normally diagnose people with that if they fail to remember how they were injured, but still remember where they came from and whatnot. So I had to take a chance with transient global amnesia; the problem with that is it's more common in _elderly_ people and that the memory usually comes back. And if it's not then..."

Then what I have is not transient global amnesia, I inwardly answer; "But the other four doctors who confirmed, are they conclusive on the same thing?"

"Y-yes," he falters at my insistence, "They have all diagnosed the same thing. But it's okay, Hachi! Sometimes these things take time! It's just that its been six weeks since the incident so I just decided to check up on you. I just needed to see if you've made some progress!"

"Well, does progress include all the 'lil stuffs?"

I catch him glancing up at Mr Kisuke (the blond haired man earlier now named). He gulps before saying, "Anything. As long as you feel as though its part of you, then it's a memory recall—it doesn't even have to be major or lucid, just as long as you're starting to know who you are."

"Well, for one thing, I seem to recall loving to eat pavlovas," I catch Mr Kisuke laughing, "What?"

He slowly clears his throat again, "N-nothing. I find that rather adorable!"

"Who are you in all of this anyway?"

"I'm just here as a close friend to Isshin, here," he tilts his head forward as if to point at Kurosaki-sensei, "I was there when he diagnosed you."

"Back in Nagano?"

"Actually, we're both from around here. Isshin and I have been acquaintances with the Komatsus since God knows when. So when they found you in the river, they called us up and we came to see what was the matter with you. In other words, we helped them piece together the rescue."

I felt heat rising up to my cheeks; "I'm sorry," I mumble, "I lash at you suspiciously."

"Oh, no! It's no problem, Hachi. You'll just have to tell us if there's any problem, alright?" He grins happily as he replies.

"Aside from all your small recollections," says Kurosaki-sensei this time, "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us? Anything from those small things counts—even dreams."

I startle at his words. "Dreams?"

"Yes, quite frequently—if not most of the time—when a patient is unable to access their old memory as and when they want, their cognitive recesses while being unconscious helps. Psychologically speaking, dreams are very sensitive and personal to a person's memories because when we are asleep, that's how we normally reassess our memories."

"Well, even so," I pause as I look away from his attentive gaze. I don't know if I'd tell him about my bad dreams of Maya.

I feel someone gently tapping my shoulders; the warmth of his hand seems to bring me back from my reverie. I look up to see Mr Kisuke smiling kindly at me and there's just the simple need to let it all out; I mean, honestly speaking, if my bad dreams could help me recollect who I am, I'd happily do it.

At the same time, how do I tell them that I have trouble sleeping? It just feels so embarrassing... and shameful! Maya is the one who helped me out after all! It's just ungrateful...

"Well," says Mr Kisuke as he rubs my shoulders in a very brotherly way, "If there's nothing like it, I'd like to place my order—Komatsu-ji is scary if he's angry!"

"Actually, there is something..." I catch the troubled looks of their faces as I bit my lips.

"Well," Mr Kisuke plants his hand on my shoulder once again—it actually feels reassuring, "What is it?"

"I have this strange dream—I have been having it since a month ago. It seems as though its the memory of when I first woke up in Nagano. It's the same every time for that two weeks, until... it suddenly takes a horrific turn," I pause for a while; but then he starts rubbing my arm again, as if to tell me that it was safe to say anything. "For some reason, every time I had these dreams, I keep asking Maya why she calls me _Hachi_ and she said it was because I was the eight one. Whenever I ask why was I the eight one, she said seven others has appeared before me and that they weren't related to one another and whatnot. Then I asked to see them and Maya suddenly becomes completely different and sinister. She told me that they're all dead and that I was the only one left... And then..."

"What happened?" I hear Mr Kisuke say; his hand now gripping on me, as if demanding me to put an end to the suspense.

"Somehow, she snarls at me and turns into a monster," I look up to see their reactions; I expect them to give a cool impression, as if I was just a frightened child talking about a dream. But instead, I'm welcomed by their wide-eyes gaze and gape—as if I was growing a second head. I could sense that they feel the fear from what I've said and it rouse their skin as they merely listened.

The man who sits before me—the big man they call _Tessai_—quickly quips, "A monster? What do you mean?"

I don't know how to react to that.

They were going to believe anything that I'll say and I don't know how to react to that—no, I'm not ready to.

"A-a monster clad in a b-bone white skin. She had tattooes spread across her body at random places, some in her face, her sleeves and legs—she had amber eyes glowing through what appears to be a mask. And sharp teeth... bear-like and it went through her gum and skin, pointing upwards and downwards. It frightened me so much I couldn't sleep afterwards and ever since, I slept only three hours at a time... I guess you could say I hadn't had any proper sleep since!" I sheepishly manage a giggle, but given from their reaction, it was very unconvincing.

Mr Kisuke is the first to react; "W-well, that's frightening indeed! How are you coping up with all that and still work?"

"Working helps me go by thinking it..."

Kurosaki-sensei gulps nervously; there's a glint of severity in his eyes as if he's thinking deeply, "Hachi, other than that, there's nothing else?" I nod; he then glances up at Mr Kisuke and Tessai, "That's horrifying..."

"Well, it could just be another nightmare..." says Mr Kisuke, just as unsure as Kurosaki-sensei. "Nightmares tend to disturb you as you jog your memories. I guess in a way, your mind is frightened by the fact that you're actually living in the same house as Maya—someone who clearly doesn't know who you are and that everyone in Japan doesn't."

"Yes, Kisuke's right! Given the fact that you speak English, you definitely don't come from around here and technically, the mind knows where it had been previously and it goes on a scared mode to learn that it's lost," says Kurosaki-sensei eagerly.

"Anyhow, let's order! I'm starved!"

"Yes, please," I smile as I catch Mr Kisuke pulling the scroll closer to his face, "What would you like to have?"

For what seems like fifteen minutes, I gather the orders of my three customers before excusing myself; once I exit, I hear Kurosaki-sensei pleading for me to return again later. I feel very glad that they are my first customer—they're such a fun bunch! When I get back to the kitchen, Maya is already there; she hasn't changed her clothes, but she was grabbing Ren by the collar as I walk in. She hesitates to punch him, looking at me and then him repeatedly, and then finally lets go of him. As Umieko takes the tray, menu scrolls and orders from me, I gaze at the havoc happening right before my eyes; Maya begins to yell incessantly at Ren and Nobuo is kind enough to explain. Apparently, Maya has heard of the story about him trying to stall me for Umieko's sake and that she is repulsed by his (and Umieko's) behaviour. She goes on to give him suspension from work (although Ren offers to resign, but she threatens him with his pay). Ren forcefully takes off his uniform and throws it on the floor, stomping his way out and muttering several curses as he did—Nobuo sighs as he left.

"Good riddance," he smiled at me and pats my shoulder, "On the other hand, you did well with your customer."

I nod happily, "Thanks, Nobuo."

"I hear you got Urahara-san," Maya jumps in, "Are you okay, Hachi?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Is that his name—the blond man?"

"Yes, Urahara Kisuke. He's a family friend."

"Oh, dear!" I gasp sheepishly, "I really wish you would've told me sooner! I lashed out at him as if he's suspicious!"

Nobuo laughs congenially at my statement; "If it's Urahara-san, that happens a lot!"

"We'll get the order done and you'll send it back to them. If they ask you to stay, then by all means, stay. But otherwise, leave them be," says Maya very seriously; it seems that her mood has been spoilt by Ren.

I nod before waiting silently in the kitchen corner; Nobuo goes off to serve his customer in another room, as do Umieko, while Maya and Fumie busied themselves preparing the dishes. I happily grab on to the trays that Maya hands over to me—these were the drinks ordered. I should be back for the food once I'm done.

When I enter the hallway, however, Mr Urahara Kisuke is talking with Komatsu-ji. He sees me in the corner of his eyes and smiles; he then dismisses all protocol and follows after me into the room. He very cheerfully tells me that I walk into the hallway _like a ninja_ and that I was very good at this job. I don't really know how to react to his generous friendliness; he keeps on going to talk about his own shop as he sips his tea (apparently, he has a small sundries shop somewhere nearby). At the point of my leaving the room (when I have served their drinks), I'm even being grabbed by the wrist by him. He insists that I stay with them and that he has told Mr Komatsu the same—a tint of pink appearing on his cheeks as if he's drunk. Is there sake in his tea?

"Oh, no. I insist to go back to work," I sheepishly cover my half of my face with my tray.

But Mr Urahara pulls me, plopping me down on the floor beside him, before bursting to a loud laugh; "Nonsense! You must listen to all your customers' wills!"

"Geez, Kisuke," Kurosaki-sensei scratches the back of his head as he face Mr Urahara, "Why does every time we go for tea that you have to _flirt_ with the workers? (At this, I blush) More importantly, she's _my_ patient!"

"Don't make Hachi-chan feel embarrassed, Isshin-chan!"

"Honestly, can't you find other people to flirt with?"

"Hachi-chan is a patient and friend of yours, and so she's a friend of mine as well!"

"That's the same thing you said to me whenever we go out before I met Masaki."

I quickly jump in and scoot myself away from Mr Urahara; "Please, Urahara-san," I shyly giggle as I smile, "I'm flattered, but —"

"Geez, you two!" Mr Urahara pouts as he crosses his arms to his chest, "Just 'cause I say nice things to pretty people, doesn't mean I'm flirting! Tessai, say something!"

"It's the tea. It makes him horny," old Mr Tessai mutters almost unenthusiastically.

"N-no! That's _not_ true! You guys, I—"

Kurosaki-sensei slaps his forehead lightly; "I knew something was wrong and utterly suspicious when you offered to treat me here..."

"T-that's not how it i-is! Hachi-chan, don't listen to them! It's not the tea and it's not because you're not pretty! I mean, you're pretty, but it's the tea, and—"

"Just hush it, Kisuke! You're not helping the situation!" Quips Kurosaki-sensei. He then turns to me, "Well, anyway, I wanted to give you some pain killers... I'm sure you get headaches whenever you wake up from your nightmares, right?"

I nod silently. "Yeah, only sometimes..."

"I know it'll have its uses for you. Just take it."

"I have something to give you too, Hachi-chan!" Mr Urahara exclaims before digging into his pants pockets.

"What, birth control pills?" Kurosaki-sensei raises his eyebrow with unfeeling look.

Mr Urahara's face pales at his words before catching my (I think) blushing face; "H-Hachi-chan," he struggled for words, "Seriously, don't think about all those things that they said! It's just sweets, alright!"

What came out of his pockets don't look like sweets at all; it's large in size and round in shape, red in color and I don't think I can either chew or suck on it like I would on a Mentos or something. He hands them over to me as if he expects me to eat it right away—I'm not going to eat something that looks like that! What if I choke? Well, Kurosaki-sensei is here after all...

"Don't worry," says Kurosaki-sensei laughingly, "It's made out of dried tangerines and dried herbs—not the bitter kind. It should help you loosen up!"

"And not in a drug abuse way!" Quips Mr Urahara quickly.

"Just eat it. I guarantee it's nothing harmful!"

I take up the pill-looking-sweet and put it in my mouth; my eyes constantly gauging the looks of Kurosaki-sensei, Mr Tessai and Urahara. Surprisingly, the sweet melts very easily into a much smaller size and that's when I feel it was safe to swallow it—for one thing, it doesn't taste good (nothing like orange at all) and I only want to expel it. But they all look at me as if they'd expect me to finish it and it's rude to reject something once you've taken it. When I finished, Kurosaki-sensei hands me his drink and I took a gulp of sip down my throat, feeling the sweet rolling down into my stomach.

"Did you taste the bitter old root?" he chuckles, "Sorry bout that! It's a trick I learnt from giving kids some medicines. They won't eat it if you said it's bitter. It's kind of like reverse psychology!"

I pout at him as I hand back his drink, "Yes! Look at what you made me do!"

"S'ok, Hachi! I know the sweet melts very easily—although, the sugar coat does nothing to steer the taste of bitter herbs, but it basically drowns everything away and helps you swallow it."

Mr Urahara eagerly nods his head; "Yes, yes! It's meant to be swallowed, anyhow!"

"Kisuke, just don't speak, alright?"

"Try your hand in Japanese," old Mr Tessai suddenly speaks up, ignoring the impish behaviour of Mr Urahara, "They say the herbs in that sweet you just took helps loosen the tongue when speaking in a foreign language. Try."

"I will," I smile widely from ear to ear; I know Maya and Mr Komatsu have a thing for roots and herbs alike, so I guess it's no surprise that these guys would offer some old herbal tips like that. I do feel a lot more eager to speak Japanese now!

Just as we discuss Mr Urahara's tendency to make advances when he has his bitter tea, Maya comes in with the food that they've ordered; she glances at me—a smile barely hanging on the edge of her lips—before kneeling down and placing the plates at each customer who ordered them. She says nothing at all, even when Kurosaki-sensei speaks to her; in fact, she responds with only _yes_ or _no_, accompanied with either a nod or shake of her head respectively. Even as I ask her to let me do it, she shakes her head and responds negatively and just leave us like that.

"Such a dedicated one," says Mr Tessai, taking in his first bamboo shoots and tofu (stir fried in soy sauce), "Is Maya alright?"

Mr Urahara answers for me, "She's just overly turned off by what happened to Hachi earlier."

"I see..."

"Yeah, he made her trip over him and that's when Maya just lost control. That girl has some really steel nerves and explosive emotion."

"It seems to run in her family."

Mr Urahara says nothing but hums a quiet _hm_; I begin to feel rather awkward. It's clear at that point that they knew the Komatsus very well—perhaps so much better and deeper than I've ever known or thought. It isn't until Kurosaki-sensei tells me to calm down and return to the kitchen that I feel comfortable once more. I still follow the protocol set out for me as I walk silently into the empty hallway and then the kitchen; Maya sits alone there with Nobuo. When I ask where everyone else was, she's only told me that they have decided to close in early and that my customers are the last ones. Nobuo excuses himself and congratulates me again, before leaving as well.

"What did Kurosaki-sensei give you?" Maya asks as soon as he leaves out the back door.

I shrug, "Some pain killers."

"And that Urahara? Has he given you anything?"

I'm quite surprise that she knows he even gives me anything—Mr Urahara appears to be well known as one who gives things away (even himself, perhaps). "Yes," I nod and pointing towards my mouth, "He gave a large ball of sweets and make me chunk it down."

"Well, did you?"

I nod again. "Of course! It's rude to reject something you receive!"

"Good," she smiles weakly, "You should try speaking Japanese soon!"

That's funny. That's the same thing Mr Tessai told me.

It's either they believe the herbs to work very quickly and so well or that something else is going on. Both Maya and Kurosaki-sensei's friends have an incredible faith in herbs to think that I'd be able to speak Japanese just because Mr Urahara gave me sweets. But it's just in the strange way she said that makes it so difficult for me to understand—just what kind of person is Mr Urahara?

XxXxXxX

"So, Hachi," Kurosaki-sensei turns around to face me and smiles, "Have you been to anywhere else than Karakura?"

I shook my head; "Oh, no! I've been only around Karakura—even so, no where further than this shop!"

"No way! You should go sight seeing once in a while!"

"With a guard, of course!" Mr Urahara bellows from afar; he walks ahead of us past the stepping stones, closer to the wicket gate outside. Mr Tessai is just next to him, muttering in Japanese as if asking him to pipe down.

Kurosaki-sensei chuckles at his friend's behaviour. "Damn that old dirt!" he curses playfully, "Always taking things too lightly!"

"He's a very refreshing fellow, isn't he?" I mumble. "He is. But he's right. It's dangerous for you to roam around without a friend. Try bringing someone around! I could ask my son to show you around—he's single and in need of a girlfriend, if you ask me."

"Oh, you mean Ichigo?"

"Yes," Kurosaki-sensei looks at me suspiciously at first, as if he hoped I was interested, before his eyes roll on their own. "Don't tell me! Did he come over to see you?"

I nod sheepishly, watching as he bites his lips and irritatingly clenches his fists. "Yes, he did—yesterday. Please don't be mad at him!"

"Don't be mad? Once I get home, I'll pounce on him if I have too! He always messes with my patients!"

"But he seems like a nice young man."

Kurosaki-sensei's expression changes quickly; a smile is formed on his lips rather lovingly, "He is. He's just like his mother, actually."

When I turn to Kurosaki-sensei, I realize that he has just stopped walking. He's staring down on his feet and furrows his eyebrows together—I feel guilty that our conversation takes a rather painful turn like this.

"Kurosaki-sensei," I call.

He lifts his head and smiles; "Oh, pish! Don't call me that!" He chortles with a rather somber tone, "That's what my wife used to call me before we met... It didn't seem to bug me earlier on, but now that you've mention it, I can't help but remember her."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Hachi. People pass away out of our control and that's life; some people die of injustice, some die of untimely jealousy, some just... sacrifice themselves to die. We have to live with the fact that our moment in time is always slipping away from us and we'll never know when we die."

I remain silent as I listened—mostly, I agree with what he said. But I don't know what else to say.

"Anyway, if you'd like to go out sometime, I'd suggest you go out with my son—n-not like a date or anything! As friends, of course!" He then sheepishly shrug, "Until you decided to date him and take it to the next level—you'd make Masaki and I very proud!"

I nod cheerfully, "Just as friends, Mr Kurosaki!"

"Great!" Then he suddenly remembers something, "It's dangerous to roam around Tokyo with all these Kira murders."

"Kira?"

"It's Japanese for _killer_. It's been on the news—wait, don't tell me! You don't watch the news?"

"Well, I've only been so busy!"

"Nonsense! Yeesh, Maya and Komatsu-ji runs a torture camp! That's it—you're going out this weekend, miss! Whether they like it or not!"

I could only nod sheepishly.

"Oh, and by the way, if Rukia tags along with you guys, ignore her."

"Rukia?"

"Ah, she's a cousin of ours and she's a bit cuckoo and follows Ichigo all around... If you see her around him, it's customary."

He doesn't look too comfortable discussing this Rukia person but as we go on towards the gate, he keeps on saying that the cousin joined them immediately when he returned from Nagano. I couldn't help but wonder why he'd think I'd need that much information...

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**_Is there enough clue for you guys to see that something is just terrible wrong with our main character and Maya? Oh, and if there is enough suspense for you guys to realize that Maya may have kidnapped our beloved main character? _

_Dang, I should really stop giving clues. nehehe_


End file.
